


Don't Fret

by helianthusaudax



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: College, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29556357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helianthusaudax/pseuds/helianthusaudax
Summary: Ford gets a guitar lesson from Fiddleford and finds it more difficult than he expected.
Relationships: Fiddleford H. McGucket/Ford Pines
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Don't Fret

"And this is an F chord." Fiddleford strums his guitar strings one after the other, and then all together.

Stanford slides his hand along the frets to copy the pose. "Like th- Ugh. Wait..." He glances up and back down a few times, triple checking that he's got it. "There?"

"Well, let's hear it!" 

Ford plays the chord and Fidds answers with his own strum, filling the dorm room with one resounding note. Fiddleford nods in approval. "Right as rain. Alright, now can you play me an F and switch back to A?" He demonstrates and looks at Ford with an expectant smile.

If there was one thing Stanford was learning, it was that playing guitar isn't coming naturally to him at all. This was a surprise. When he was a bit younger he had picked up the piano like it was nothing, dancing across the keys without effort.

There was, of course, no piano here in his dorm at Backupsmore. Even if he had the money for one, there wouldn't be space for it. Still, he had been itching to play an instrument again. Maybe he thought having a musical outlet would help to calm his caffeine-addled nerves... Maybe it was something about his roommate's banjo plucking that made him want to play along.

Piano keys were arranged in a way that made sense. Linear. Orderly. On the other hand, guitar strings and frets made a grid, adding an entirely new spacial dimension. Ford plays the F and then scrambles to rearrange his fingers. This one here, that one there... After an embarrassing few seconds, he matches the position and plays the A.

"There you go! Great job." Fiddleford praises Ford's progress again but only sees distress in the other man's eyes. "Hey, are you alright? We can stop if you want to."

"Hm?" Stanford's head jerks up, having been unaware of his mental drifting. He presses the strings tighter to the fretboard. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I'm just not- This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. That's all." He focuses on his hand, carefully switching between all of the chords he'd been shown earlier. A... G. F... E- No, that was a D. He hisses through his teeth and slumps his shoulders.

"Why aren't I getting it?" Ford's fingers slip from the strings and rest curled in a fist on his lap.

Fiddleford scoots off of his bed and steps across to sit on Ford's bed next to him. "Stanford, c'mon now. You've only just started. Nobody's an expert in anything on their first day."

Stanford turns a stubborn gaze Fiddleford's way. "Because they don't try hard enough."

"Or maybe-" Fidds quirks an eyebrow. "Because they don't ask for help."

"Fine... You're right." Ford sighs, begrudgingly thankful for the offer. "It's just that my fingers keep tripping each other, it's hard to keep the extras out of the way. I'm not sure that I can play the same way you do."

Fiddleford tilts his head. "Then don't play like me. Play like you, dummy!" When Ford responds by looking perplexed, Fidds elaborates. "Let me put it this way: From your perspective, are your fingers extra?"

Stanford considers this. "Well, no. Of course not. I've never had any less, so how could they be?"

"Exactly! It's sorta like being right or left handed. You know, some left-handers have been known to play the guitar upside-down. Only it's right-side-up to them, because that's how they play it best. So don't worry about 'correct', go for what makes sense."

"Huh. When you put it that way, I guess..." Ford plays the chords again, positioning his fingers along the frets based on what was most comfortable. As he plays, he finds that it's easier to think one note ahead- he can hover over the next position with the fingers he's not using.

Looking up, Ford sees Fiddleford beaming at him. Anyone else watching Ford so intently had always unnerved him, but somehow this was different. He didn't feel watched, yet at the same time he felt more seen than perhaps he ever had. 

Fiddleford seems to realize he's staring and quickly turns his eyes away, clearing his throat. "See? Don't overthink it. Course, I know that's easier said than done... Especially for you." He returns his gaze to Ford with a teasing wink.

Ford gives him an eye roll, but he's smiling too. "Hey, at least overthinking is better than underthinking."

"Mhm. Keep telling yourself that, if it helps you sleep at night... Oh wait! You don't sleep at night." Fiddleford grins.

Stanford sets his guitar flat across his lap so he can cross his arms. "Are you going to teach me a song already, or are you going to keep picking on me?"

"Alright, alright, I'm done. It's just too easy." Ignoring Ford's indignant huff at that, Fiddleford picks up his own guitar again. "Now, I'll play a few notes, and you repeat after me."

As Fiddleford plays, he always sings where there's lyrics. 

Perhaps, Ford thinks, he'll eventually work up the courage to sing along.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by this banjo and guitar duet cover of Mamma Mia that I fell in love with. https://youtu.be/lWpmALY8Z_s?t=22
> 
> The juxtaposition of banjo and 70s pop just made me think of My Two Dorks in their college days. (Obligatory "oh my god they were roommates...")


End file.
